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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728998">tomorrow will not come (until you learn from your mistakes)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisye/pseuds/Elisye'>Elisye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>wake up, birthday girl (it's the end of an era) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Gen, Post-Game(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:27:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisye/pseuds/Elisye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rats can be such invasive, problematic things - so it should be common sense to clean them out when you see them, yes?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Misaki Shiki &amp; Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>wake up, birthday girl (it's the end of an era) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1184453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>tomorrow will not come (until you learn from your mistakes)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>its been ten million years since ive written anything for this au but as with all my aus, i do love them and think about em once in a while ww</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>This is the stupidest thing you've ever done.</p><p>The stupidest, craziest, thoughtless, nonsensical, idiotic, absolutely most insane thing you could be doing now or before or ever. And also the only thing you could be doing where you believed, even for a moment, you would survive it.</p><p>(Then again, you thought and did the same when you died - you climbed an old and tall tree, tried to do a brainless trick or two to impress a gaggle of children, slipped between the branches, fell, crashed, cracked. Did you look like Humpty Dumpty on the ground, bleeding red rivers into the grass? The children looked so shocked, screamed so loud—)</p><p>You swallow the pit in your throat. Try to, at any rate. The room is suffocating you too much - the air is too thin, the light too bright, the fear, the adrenaline, the silence, the inevitable, blood blood blood everywhere.</p><p>You managed to blink, once. A part of you can't think. It just can't - your brain processes have shuttered, a forced stop on the highway to utter terror and loud panic. Or so you guess. You blink, and the few parts still chugging along in your head take note of the warmth slathered over your palms. So red, so sticky. What a mess. Don't you agree? Of course you do. You would have to be quite the individual to not consider this nonsense to be an inconvenience, at the very least. And however brainless you are, here and then, you're not going to be such a brainless person forever, yes?</p><p>A pair of white, low-heeled shoes come to a pause before you. Slowly, God crouches down, a cold hand raising you by the chin so that you can look at nothing else but her divinity.</p><p>"I like to believe in second chances." She speaks with neither a happy or angry tone. But there's something there - something dangerous. Do not disappoint. "As with this line of work though, it comes at a price. And this chance, too, is no different."</p><p>The blockade in your head gets lifted. Like a rush of ice water into your veins, you breathe, choking further. But the hand forcing your gaze doesn't release you - won't ever, you brain manages to supply, not until something comes to a head. With your senses coming back, you can see the aftermath before you even realize it.</p><p>"There's—" Swallow, swallow, one step at a time, you've already fucked this up so much, don't fuck up more. "I-I know, there's nothing we can do—"</p><p>Her eyes narrow. You can feel a nail start to pinch into your skin. Is it leaving a mark redder than all the blood and guts spilled around the room?</p><p>You don't want to join them. Even if you deserve it.</p><p>"—I know! I know! I can't— I won't beg forgiveness, we can't, what we've done is just, it's— I know! A-And, I, I don't want it either! You have all the right t-to do as you please with us, with me, so—"</p><p>"And you want a second chance, in return?" Her eyes remain narrowed. "If I ask you to fulfill any request, you want to keep your life in return? Is that what you're asking of me?"</p><p>
  <em>Do not disappoint.</em>
</p><p>"No!" You would shake your head in vehement refusal if you could. "There's no way I'd ask something - anything of you!"</p><p>"Then?" Such a bored drawl. "Just what are you rambling about to me?"</p><p>"I-I..."</p><p>Your voice is beginning to die on you. God is getting bored. She's getting so very bored and a bit impatient and this absolute disaster you've gotten tangled in has also resulted in her dress getting dirty. Do you know how hard it is to wash blood out of white fabric? Out of lace? It's a headache. And here you are, the last surviving piece of the latest conspiracy to inflict such cruelties upon her. She must be in such a good mood not to dispose of you with the rest of the trash already.</p><p>What a kindness. You wonder if her benevolence can stretch any further.</p><p>(Your death was such a simple accident. A simple moment, like a yes or no question - you were either successful at making the children smile, or unsuccessful and needed better plans. You didn't think you would fucking <em>die,</em> you just, you just—)</p><p>You try to take a deep breath. It feels shallow, and you feel more breathless than calm after. This could be the very last breath you take.</p><p>Still - "There's an uprising in Nerima."</p><p>"Against your laughable pick of a Conductor? So I've heard."</p><p>"Laughable is too nice a word," slips out before you can even mull over how to phrase your next thoughts. Not that you really think, do you? "He's— he's an asshole! A fuckward dipshit <em>asshole!</em> He doesn't care for us or even deal with his work right and, and, fuck - just, I was fed up! All of us were! I couldn't stand him or the others so I, we - we had to leave. We didn't have a choice."</p><p>"You had a choice in who and where to go to, though."</p><p>"We weren't planning on—"</p><p>"You." She's frowning. She's clearly, deeply frowning, and you've fucked up! Wonderful! "<em>You</em> didn't plan on this. Stop imposing your assumptions on your friends - besides, it's clear regardless that what you thought isn't what the others thought."</p><p>And for their own, respective thoughts - the wild group you lumped yourself into had gotten slaughtered. Trespassed too deep into her domain with sword and fire, and of course, what is one to do with such unruly, reckless invaders besides putting them down?</p><p>Such sheer stupidity - who thinks, as they flee with a bullseye on their backs, to attach another set of eyes onto them?</p><p>God huffs. "Really. Just what was logical about this? Ultimately, your problem is in Nerima - how in the world did any of you believe gaining authority here would mean gaining authority there?"</p><p>"One of us could have talked to our Composer then!" you say, because that's your final excuse - the persuasion that made you go along with this whole mess in the first place. "We - no, I, I thought that if one of us managed it, then, they could have gone to our Composer in Nerima and just, I don't know, get our Conductor straightened out? Maybe enforce some real order and do some real work or, or something, that's just what I thought..."</p><p>Otherwise, really, you were content to just wait it out here, in some relative safety from the tyrannical attentions of the de-facto leader of your ward's Underground. Of course, you knew that hiding was neither a good or permanent decision, but what could you do? You're not the smartest or the fastest or anything at all - you're just some unfortunate person who died while trying to do tree-hanging tricks! An ordinary person, who spent their afterlife of miracles in a single week and avoided a ticket straight to erasure. Though it wasn't enough miracles to be revived back to life, to redo your old decisions, to not be so thoughtless or careless or kind in wanting to make some kids happy. There were so many other ways and places they could be happy, you didn't have to do that for them.</p><p>(Though your brain thinks, nonetheless, that you would do it again in a heartbeat.)</p><p>The lady blinks, the frostiness of her expression creeping closer to exasperation now. She shakes her head at your reply. "That's not how it works. Trust me. If you couldn't get a hold of your Composer, how in the world would I? Another ward is still another ward."</p><p>"There still has to be something—"</p><p>"And?" The chill is back. "So what? What good is another attempt or another avenue when you've failed this one?"</p><p>This is the end of the road. <em>Do not disappoint.</em></p><p>Your hands clench, unclench.</p><p>Thinking. But you're not very good at it, remember?</p><p>"...I... guess." Since, true. What else can you do right now? Nothing, really - you're at her mercy. And you doubt she will be merciful for much longer. It was kind of her to listen, though.</p><p>As if reading your thoughts - perhaps she is, actually - her hand lets go, finally. Without the support, like a scarecrow without its reinforcements, your head slumps down to watch the slow absorption of blood and pus along lace trims. A bright splash of color on unblemished power. What a fashion statement. Yet she takes the effort to scrub out the color, isn't it tedious to seem so pure and unassuming when you could declare this boldness and fearlessness to the world? Your mind can't help but wander at such an idea.</p><p>If you had such might, maybe, you wouldn't be in this position. Wouldn't have had to run away from home, wondering how everything and everyone's faring in the meantime. Your parents still live there, actually - aged with time and your too-early death. Funny, how you're not going to outlast them a second time. You wish you could have been better about your life and unlife, the whole of it.</p><p>Not that you can. You've spent your second chance already. All there is, is to be quick enough in closing your eyes while hoping a second death is more painless than the ones you've seen so far.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Ohhh, is that the whole story? That's more boring than I expected."</p><p>"Excuse you, I think it's the most terrifying thing that happened in my life." You pause, taking a sip of your brandy. "Or afterlife. I don't know, I was just shit fucking scared the entire time."</p><p>"Anyone would be," Shizuko hums in a sympathetic tone, patting your shoulder. Next to her, Fuuya continues to snicker, as if your near-experience about becoming minced meat was a funny bedtime story. Though, to be fair, live and work long enough in the Underground, and you start to get a horrible sense of humor and opinions.</p><p>"Still, to think you got transferred here after trying to assassinate the Boss... It makes her sound <em>way</em> nicer than she really is."</p><p>"Or kinda crazy?" Normally, you wouldn't be saying this aloud, anywhere or to anyone, but the memory is a stressful thing and you're a couple of glasses in already. So fuck it. You need to get it out of your head at some point anyway.</p><p>"Maybe it's both?" Fuuya comments with a shrug. "I mean, she is a little weird. Not obviously, but I mean, she has this... air to her, that's somewhat strange, if you get what I mean? That and, while she isn't nice now - everyone in this god damn district knows that much - she cuts us some slack, sometimes. Like she could be worse but actually tries not to be? Shizuko, you know what I mean, right?"</p><p>"I do." The Officer frowns a bit. "I've been present at some meetings she's had with other Composers and some Conductors and... to say the least, well..."</p><p>"Oh, don't worry about convincing me. I know all too well how shitty they can be," you sigh. It's been some years since you've been moved over to Shibuya - a decade or two, maybe? Long enough to not be a complete greenhorn here, but your even longer years in Nerima seem fresher to remember, sometimes.</p><p>Fuuya downs a shot, banging the glass back on the table so hard that you wonder if he's going to need to pay for it. The drink and the glass both. "Thinking about shitty people is making me feel shitty right now. Let's talk about something else, yeah?"</p><p>"No objections from me," you say, already sliding the appetizer menu closer to order something new to chew on. And maybe a whole bottle of wine, just in case.</p><p>"I still wonder why she let you stay," Shizuko mumbles. "It's really incomprehensible, considering how much she detests these attacks for her position... With how often they are, and from what I know of the Composer, she would never entertain more risks and chances of being killed in her sleep."</p><p>"Heh. Does she even sleep?" Fuuya asks with a snort. "I've literally never seen her go to sleep. Maybe she doesn't even have a bed."</p><p>"Fuuya, do you know how stupid you sound right now?"</p><p>"Shizuko, do you know how stupid it is to apply common sense to someone like our Composer?"</p><p>The girl opens her mouth to retort, says nothing, purses her lips into a stubborn line. The man laughs back at her silence, and doesn't stop when the two initiate another round of feet and ankle kicking at each other. On the other side of the counter, the bartender - a fellow Reaper, which is the only reason why the three of you are able to be in here without any ID checking (a nice thing, considering you all stopped aging with your deaths) - shoots the pair a tired look before taking your new order. You share the exasperation a bit as you watch them go on with their childishness, a part of you wanting nothing to do with how ridiculous they look right now by association, while the rest of you just sits and mellows in a strange, gentle mood.</p><p>Honestly, you don't get why you were spared that day, and you're probably never going to hear the reason for the rest of your however-long lifetime - but really, you're not going to take it for granted. How could you? There's far too much to miss if you did - such plain, ordinary things. Such quiet things that people might scoff at, but they can't be denied. They are small, infinitely insignificant and infinitely important details that can change the future forever, you know this all too well.</p><p>A part of you wonders if that's exactly why the Composer of Shibuya found you acceptable enough to become one of her own. But that's <em>such</em> a silly thought even by your standards, you have to chuckle at it under your breath and move on. The night is so young, after all.</p><p> </p>
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